It’s hard not to stare at this woman in complete awe right now. I’ve never met anyone like her, so grounded, so down to earth. Every girl I’ve met in college, with the exception of some of my guys’ girls, have seemed so one-dimensional with little substance. Milly is the furthest thing from that. She has layers with a tough exterior, almost like the M&M’s we’re eating. Hard on the outside, soft and sweet on the inside.
I want to reach out and touch her, put my arm around her, tell her how amazing she is, but I also don’t want to freak her the fuck out. She’s already a little weirded out by my late-night visit, and if I want Milly, which I think I do, I’ll have to take things slow with her. She just snuck up on me. Weeks ago, I didn’t know she existed, and yet now, after such a short time of knowing her, I can’t imagine my life without her. She brings light . . . genuine honesty. My mind has only been focused on baseball, with good reason, but now I want both baseball and this girl. I want Milly. I want this girl to be mine. But making a move on her now wouldn’t be wise.
“Is that what you want to do after college? Coach?”
“Yes. My brothers own a training facility, and they’re expanding. I’m putting together a proposal to add individual coaching facilities as well. I’ve been working on it during my free time, and I’m hoping to present it to them after graduation. Kind of want to help turn their business into a baseball mecca. They have the foundation, and I want to expand it.”
“Do you think they’ll be open to it?”
“Yes, but they’re also smart businessmen, so they won’t go for it just because I’m their sister. That’s why I’m working really hard on the proposal and making sure I have everything researched and planned so when they question my business plan, I’ll have answers for everything.”
“That’s really smart. I have no idea what you have entailed, but what I do know is that they would be stupid to not have you on board. You’re really smart, Milly.”
“You’re just saying that because I’m pretty sure I could do no wrong in your eyes at this point.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, probably, but I also believe you are smart. I wouldn’t lie about that.”
She glances away and says, “Thank you,” very softly as her chin rests on the top of her knee. Still staring out at the parking lot, she asks, “Why did you choose to go to college instead of be drafted right out of high school?”
“Because of my dad. Making it in the big leagues is such a longshot and seeing the way my dad struggled to provide for me, I wanted to make sure in case I didn’t make it, I’d have something to fall back on.”
“And what is that?”
“Architecture.”
“Really?” She perks up, surprised.
“Yeah. It’s weird. I like to draw buildings. It’s what I do on our road trips when we’re not watching Reese Witherspoon, or studying.”
She chuckles. “I still can’t believe you guys were watching chick flicks on the bus.”
“We’re a whole bunch of softies, and don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.”
“I could see it.” She yawns and covers her mouth quickly, cluing me in that I should let her get back to bed.
“It’s late, and I still have to drive back to the loft.” I stand and pick up the package of M&M’s, handing it to her once she’s on her feet as well. “Thank you for sharing.”
“I wasn’t about to eat them in front of you.” She takes the package and I keep my eyes glued to hers, not once glancing at her chest. I should win a goddamn medal. “Thank you again.” She takes a step back, and there goes my small window of getting a hug.
It would be nice to have my arms around her again, as she fits so perfectly against my chest. It was something I noticed when I hugged her before we left. Yeah, she might have been upset and crying, and I might have taken small advantage of it by pulling her into my arms, but I would do it all over again to feel her warmth against mine one more time.
“Yeah, sure.” I scratch the back of my head and then point at her. “You’re amazing, Coach. Thank you again.”
The smile that crosses her face barely reaches her eyes, but before I can understand it, she’s all the way to the dorm door, about to walk in.
“Have a good night, Carson.” She gives me a small wave and is gone.
Hands behind my head, I sigh and turn back to my car. I don’t know what I was expecting to happen when I came to her dorm, but her leaving with a lackluster smile and a parting wave wasn’t it. But why did I expect more? It’s possible that she might not be interested in me . . . fuck. I hadn’t even considered that. This is going to be harder than I expected.
“You’re acting weird.” Jason flops on the couch next to me in the loft. He has a ball in his hand and starts tossing it in the air in front of him.
It’s Thursday night, we’ve finished practice, showered, ate, and now the guys are either studying in their rooms, hanging with their girls, or sleeping. It’s been a long season so far.
Me, I chose to wallow in the common area while watching mindless reruns of Friends on TV. I will say this to the very end—Phoebe will always be my girl. I’ve always loved the eccentric, the different. Yeah, Rachel is the obvious choice for favorite girl with Monica as a close second despite her OCD tendencies, leaving Phoebe pulling up the caboose. But that’s not how I see it. Phoebe is the one everyone should want to be with. She’s wild in bed, carefree, has some awesome fucking stories, and will probably cut someone if I asked her to. She’s different, and I like different.
Just like Milly. She’s different. Really fucking different than any other girl I’ve met, and I’m wishing right now I was in the cages with her, hitting balls, even though my muscles are screaming and begging for a break. I considered texting her, asking her if she wanted to meet in the dugout at field six.
“Just tired,” I answer Jason just as Chandler says something funny, making the live studio audience laugh.
“I’ve seen you tired.” He picks up Romeo’s bat off the coffee table and pokes me with it. “This isn’t tired.”
“I am tired,” I say, not even convincing myself.
“Yeah, okay. Does this happen to be about a girl maybe?”
“No . . .” I drag out, as a neon pink sign pops over my head flashing the word “liar.”
“It’s pathetic how bad you are at lying. Who’s the girl?” A smile crosses his face. “Is it that Milly chick you’ve been hanging out with a lot lately?”
“We haven’t been hanging out, we’ve been practicing.”
“But you want to hang out with her.” He wiggles his eyebrows and pokes me with the bat again, this time, really starting to annoy me. “Don’t you?”
“Maybe.” Ross barges into Monica and Rachel’s apartment, wearing nothing but a pair of paste pants, a button-up shirt, and holding a wadded-up bundle of leather pants. Poor, poor Ross. At least I’m not at his level . . . at least not yet.
“So, what’s holding you up, just ask her out.”
“It’s not that easy.” I sigh and turn to face him. We’re both shirtless, in mesh shorts, and hair a damn mess from showers and not doing anything to it afterward. “I’m not sure she even sees me being in her life in that way.”